Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, hungry, almost eerie, I dreamt of a sandwich stuffed with wisdom. Just a slice of cheddar on rye, standing tall on the battlements of my subconscious.
Have you heard about the elusive "Forgotten Goldfish of 3 AM"? Legend has it, it swims through the dreams of insomniacs, dispensing shoals of sparkling trivia and existential musings. Alas, it always remains three bubbles ahead.
In the words of a wise sock lost in the tumble dryer of life: Don’t fold under pressure! Or was that a toaster's philosophical lament?